Hopper's Women
are always alone, even if someone else is in the room, even if they’re leaning at the counter of an all-night diner. This woman is standing in the open mouth of her doorway as if it were the prow of an ocean liner, ready to embark on a long voyage. Her dress and lips part in anticipation. The sun pounds down, a relentless spotlight, but she is unblinking in its glare, stares off in the middle distance. Triangular shadows slice the air; rough waters ahead. The curtain of the sky rises. Everything is about to begin. Barbara Crooker This poem first appeared in Barbara Crooker's book, More (C&R Press). Barbara Crooker is the author of nine books of poetry; Les Fauves is the most recent. Her work has appeared in many anthologies, including The Bedford Introduction to Literature, Commonwealth: Contemporary Poets on Pennsylvania, The Poetry of Presence and Nasty Women: An Unapologetic Anthology of Subversive Verse. www.barbaracrooker.com
1 Comment
Lorry Vieira
1/17/2019 10:08:05 am
Loved it!! Love Poetry!
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